Before I go to bed each night, I get on my knees and pray to God with all my soul to at least consider burning all of the wine vineyards on the entire planet to the ground so that wine drinkers can, if only for a brief moment, feel the angst and misery I endure listening to them discuss their precious wine.
To wine lovers everywhere: YOU ARE SO ANNOYING! While you blah, blah, blah about the robustness of your cabernet and discuss the various regions of the world and climate that your stupid grape is grown in, I estimate about six-thousand things I would rather be doing at that moment, including having one of my testicles crushed in a vice.
You talking about wine is about as exciting as listening to my accountant read through the 79 page booklet of new tax laws. I’d rather tour his filing cabinets and peruse every single one of his clients’ tax returns than take a tour of your stodgy vineyard and watch disgusting middle to upper class dipshits sip and spit their wine into another glass. You are a cow and should be shanked from behind.
In case you missed the newsflash: Wine sucks! And if that offends you, then you’re what’s wrong with this country. You are one step removed from those Star Wars numbskulls who collect the action figures still in the original packaging. They display them and talk about them and show them off to their friends, but they never actually play with them. This is you with your 1678 Chateau Ausone that sits in your wine cellar, the one that you polish six times a day and that you are saving for a special occasion that will never happen because no one wants to come to your house and listen to some douche-nozzle talk about how wonderful his wine collection is.
How narcissistic are you to think that anyone cares about your souvenir wines and how much you paid for them? You are the reason everyone hates white people, because of shit like this. I would rather listen to the washed up, beer-bellied, glory-day dad who still displays his 1963 pole vaulting trophies on the mantlepiece.
You want to know what’s better than your $22,000 Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru you have stored in your wine cellar? My fucking 2-litre bottle of Mountain Dew. You know why? Because I don’t go on rants about it and show it off and talk about how some day I might open it up. I just fucking drink it! Often with a huge-ass burrito!
The 7 Most Annoying Things About Wine and Wine Lovers:
1. Your belief that wine is mysterious and multi-faceted. ”This wine is very complex.” No it isn’t. It’s very simple. It sucks! Move on.
2. You sniffing it. You look like a crack whore sniffing cocaine off some guy’s dick. I’m going to start smelling my beer just to show you how ridiculous you look.
3. You inventing smells in wine that aren’t there. ”I detect hints of leather and tobacco.” No you don’t, and you know why? Because those things aren’t in wine. It smells like sour grape juice, because that’s what it fucking is! Stop inventing shit that your wine smells like to make it seem more convoluted and extravagant than you already attempt to do.
4. You gurgling wine between your teeth. All I can think of while you are disgusting me with this ritual as I’m trying to eat my dinner is that scene in Silence of the Lambs when Hannibal Lecter makes that fluttering sound with his mouth like a feral rabbit, right after Jodie Foster gets an eyeful of jizz from that psycho inmate. That’s what I picture when I watch you gurgling wine: Hannibal Lecter, Jodie Foster, psycho prison dude, jizz in the eye.
5. Declaring that a you can’t call a wine something unless it’s from a certain region. ”It’s not Champagne unless it’s made in the province of Champagne.” The fact that you think that your dirt is so much exquisite than the dirt that exists on other parts of the planet makes you a tool beyond the fathomable comprehension of this universe. ”Hey everybody, let’s make fermented grape juice and carbonate it and then make a law that if it isn’t grown in our little faggy French town that they can’t call it what we named it.” You made a law to name your shitty beverage. Congratulations!
6. You talking about the movie Sideways like it’s the most revolutionary film since Schindler’s List: The only thing that saved this movie from being suckier than a steaming pile of shit was watching Lowell from Wings go on his fuck-quest and get smashed in the nose with a motorcycle helmet. To all you wine aficionados out there: Paul Giamatti did not invent pinot noir. It’s been around for centuries, so stop informing me of your recent enlightenment and acting as if you have a secret to share that no one knows about.
7. Your dictionary of endless wine vocab words. Don’t give me that coy smirk and tell me that you are “fluent in the language of wine.” That’s like being proud that you speak Pig Latin. I get it, ok? Wine is your lord and savior and you are a dork who can’t get laid and who is horny for tannins and you want to hump the Earth it came from. But when you use terms like Fruit Forward and Structure and Character, I can’t help but want to punch you in the chest and collapse your lungs. Character? Are you kidding me? The only character that has to do with wine is the retard drinking it. Orry-say if at-thay offends ou-yay.
I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point some Hitler wine genius brainwashed all the white people in the world into thinking wine was meaningful and essential to our happiness. Allow me to knock the Kool-aid from your self-righteous fist and wake you the fuck up. All you are doing by drinking wine is trying to find a way to get wasted while still being able to look down your noses at people. If you find that your purpose in life is to collect wine, drink wine, and scrutinize wine with the same intensity as ESPN analysts dissecting Tiger Woods’ love life, you are a chode and a loser and should be shot in the face with gravel from a cannon.
But that’s just my opinion.
Cheers, until next time.
The RB
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